


Broken Voice

by Kalira



Series: Voltron Angst Week 2017 [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Creatures, Angst, Bear Shifter Hunk, First Kiss, M/M, Not Fitting In, Shapeshifter Hunk, Singing, Sirens, Voltron Angst Week 2017, mermaid lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 04:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10712586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: Unable to sing with the magic of his people, and hurting for the way he is always just a little . . . less for that lack, Lance leaves his home behind for a while and discovers that maybe he doesn't need a siren song to sing a heart into his hands.





	Broken Voice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Voltron Angst Week](https://voltron-angst-week.tumblr.com/) Day 7 - Siren. (That was yesterday, but yesterday I was still busy writing the one for Day 6.)
> 
> Yes, I used the prompt in the sense of mythological sirens, because I love supernatural creature AUs.

Sails billowed over the horizon, and Lance perked up at the sight. He let out a trill to catch the attention of the rest of his pod nearby and dove back under the water, curling his body and pushing down hard. A few quick strokes of his tail sent him breaching the surface and into the air, and he pulled himself up onto a rock that thrust up out of the sea.

He curled his tail and pushed a little more, getting up to the jagged crest. He could see more of the ship now, and it was a big one, flying a deep blue flag with details in some lighter colour.

“A ship?” Jadran asked as he came up from the water alongside the rock.

“Big. Heading sunwise.” Lance said, grinning, and looked down. “Towards the crescent straits. We can catch it there.”

“Awesome!” Kayla flipped over and all Lance saw of her as she disappeared underwater and took off towards the straits was the flashes glinting off her pink and orange scales as the light hit her.

Lance glanced at the ship again, narrowing his eyes to try and make out any shifts in their rigging and sails, then leaned back and twisted. He rolled and toppled off the rock, and by the time he slipped into the water his head and shoulders were lowermost and he could translate the fall into speed as he arrowed beneath the surface.

He smiled as he heard the excited echoes around him, his fellow mers spiralling around each other, tails brushing from time to time as they tumbled together. Chika and Arianne peeled off to find more of the pod and bring them along, and Lance laughed, twisting his tail and curving his body into a loop over and around one of his sisters.

Mariela giggled and reached up, flicking the end of his tailfin, and Lance yelped in startlement as the slender bones bent a bit under her swat. He doubled back, catching hold of her still extended arm with one hand, and pressing just below her hip with the other, sending her off course.

“Lance!” Mariela laughed as she tried to scold him, thrashing and getting out from under his hand, though it only sent her twisting sideways and thumping bodily into him. Their tails flashed side-by-side, his brilliant shades of deep blue fading out to the palest shade to match the sky, hers almost the same in shades of green, but every fin edged with deepest blues.

Lance hugged her lightly, patting her back, and then released her.

Mariela swooped around in front of him, though, just as Lance heard the sound of at least half a dozen more mers joining them. Lance made to continue with them towards the crescent straits, but Mariela flared her fins and blocked him, her expression going dark.

“Mariela?” Lance asked, looking down at the hand that had suddenly on his chest, holding him back. It wasn’t Mariela’s, it belonged to another, larger male mer.

His sister gave him an almost apologetic look, and Brady pulled away, moving towards her. “It’s not- It’s not your _fault_ , Lance.” Mariela said, glancing at the male beside her and then back at Lance. “But- You can’t sing properly. You just _can’t_. So. . . No. You should just stay behind.” She smiled, but it didn’t help. “Just for now.” she tried.

It was a lie, and Lance knew it.

“Right.” Lance said, hollowly, a tremor running through his fins before he pulled back, stiffening them. He gave a slow sweep of his tail. “Of course. You- Go on.” he said, and turned away, a powerful stroke of his tail sending him speeding away before his sister could offer any more insincere apologies.

That wasn’t fair, really, Lance thought, as he dove deeper, looping quickly around a huge coral outcropping and twisting through the dark towers of broken rock beyond. Mariela _meant_ her apology . . . but she also _meant_ ‘no, you can’t come with us’.

Because he wasn’t good enough, never _had_ been, and they’d thought-

They had all thought that even if his voice wasn’t developed _yet_ as a child, when he matured, it would come - some mers were like that. Not many in his family, but it _had_ happened, and it wasn’t so unusual, really. But Lance’s adolescence had brought awkward cracks and squeaks to his voice, growing pains as it matured . . . but nothing more.

When those awful disturbances settled, and he sang with his adult voice, it was still. . .

Nothing. Nothing more than sound.

What kind of siren can’t even sing a single lonely sailor from his post on board ship?

Lance stopped suddenly, curling his tail forwards and seizing hold of a broken, dead coral to arrest his movements quicker. It cut at his hands, but he ignored the stinging pain. The currents he had sent through the water now swirled around him, ruffling his side fins and his hair as the water kept moving when he stopped.

Lance rubbed one forearm across his face, his breaths hitching and his chest aching. The fins along the outsides of his forearms and down his sides below his hips trembled and then pressed close to his body, and his tailfin fluttered uncertainly.

His sister - more than one of his sisters - and more of his pod, they would be circling the ship, singing to the sailors and tempting them away or not as they chose. They would come back riding high on the excitement and likely with new presents thrown to them from the enchanted sailors and Lance. . .

Lance would never be one of them, though he’d never been explicitly told to stay away before. And _Mariela_ , his beloved sister, closest to his age and-

Lance curled tighter against the coral and stifled a scream of distress, knowing it would carry. Then he let it out after all, because _who would listen_ , not when his podmates were singing over a new ship?

A nudibranch with eye-smartingly blue and yellow tendrils coming off its back inched over the dead coral. It brushed by one of Lance’s arms, and he lifted a hand, trailing his fingers over its back. It quivered, squirming a bit as it stopped moving forwards, and waved the tentacles on its head towards Lance’s arm, probably trying to figure out if he was a threat.

He flared the fin on his left arm and scooped up the creature. “How did you get here?” he asked it, as it flailed in his hands. “There’s nothing to eat left in these.” Lance checked, diving lower along the seabed, but nothing stirred and not the slightest sound came to his sensitive ears from anywhere in the mountainous coral skeletons. He could hear his pod in the distance, their voices carrying powerfully, but he quickly tried to tune that out.

Lance pushed away, carrying the nudibranch in his hands, and it slowed its protests, instead wrapping itself around Lance’s fingers. The ocean here was quiet, but he passed by more life as he came further from the dead corals.

The nudibranch nearly had to be peeled loose from his hand when he found a more lively coral to let it free. Lance carefully folded his fins tight to his sides and let himself drift as he passed a few huge anemones, not wishing to be stung.

He let the nudibranch settle on the sand near a brain coral, which was thriving with tiny living things. The nudibranch’s tentacles waved furiously, and it began heading off industriously towards the nearest source of food.

Lance smiled a bit, watching it, and giggled as he felt a few light taps at one of his fins. A small school of dull green fishes had come up to him and were mouthing curiously at his fin, so much bigger than theirs. He waved it slowly and they scattered, then reformed around him, skittish and careful.

Lance began to swim, taking in the thriving variety of living creatures below him. He was far enough from the crescent straits now that he couldn’t hear his pod any more, even if he strained his ears. That thought startled him and he flared his fins, drifting to a stop.

A ray soared over him and Lance ducked, twisting out of its way without thinking. He was away from his family now, _far_ out of hearing and. . .

Lance didn’t want to go back. Not right now. Would anyone even look for him anyway? He hadn’t been wanted today when they went after the ship, after all, even though _he_ had been the one to spot it. He had been turned away and no one had. . .

Lance frowned. He knew his family cared for him, and he knew he was liked decently well in his pod even outside his family. There were weaker singers who didn’t often go to the ships, too, even as there were stronger singers - like his mother, who had once enchanted an entire ship of the line by _herself_ , and his father, who had swayed an admiral with a will of iron into abandoning his post.

But there were no others who _could not sing_.

No, that was only Lance. He swallowed, shaking, and when he left the reef behind he wasn’t swimming for home. He struck out on his own, knowing he could find his way back when he was ready. If he was ready.

His thoughts swirled around that point, not quite ready to consider it, for a long way as he swam. He made for the surface, playing in the wavelets there and sunning a little. He didn’t have anywhere to be and no one to think of meeting. Lance was quiet. A rare circumstance.

A trilling series of clicks startled him, and he opened his eyes to find a dolphin leaping over him. He grinned when a smaller one, still young, tried to follow its mother and couldn’t quite clear the distance, landing over Lance’s belly. He caught it and tossed it back in the air, prompting a cry as it flailed and then dove nose-first back into the waves.

Lance played with the pod, showing off how far he could leap and the tricks he could do, and wound up falling in with them as they swam. Lance didn’t know where they were headed, but then . . . he didn’t know where he was headed either. Nowhere, he supposed.

Lance closed his eyes and leaned his upper body against the nearest dolphin, taking a deep, shuddering breath. He didn’t push Lance away, though another of the pod nosed at him and swam along his side, fins prodding him.

He huffed and pulled himself together, swimming faster, outpacing his companions until they began to race as well. The race turned into a hunt when they burst upon a large school of sleek silver fish, and Lance stayed with it, helping the pod corral the fish and catching a few for himself as well, more than willing to eat them still thrashing.

Lance stayed with them for a day, feeling a little less lost with the playful, welcoming creatures around him, but he left their company when he saw they were heading towards a ship. Lance who could not sing a sailor’s heart away wanted nothing to do with it.

Not exactly his mother’s son, he thought, heart aching, and poured more energy into his swimming until his muscles ached and his mind was blank with exhaustion. He drifted and slept without meaning to, waking only when something drifted over his face.

He shrieked and thrashed, darting away, and realised belatedly that it had been a thresher shark’s tailfin. Not a threat, it was only just almost as long as he was. It had just been startling. The shark was now speeding away, probably frightened by his own panic.

Lance shook himself and found somewhere a little less open to curl up and nap, fins extended to keep an ‘eye’ on the ocean around him, any disturbances likely to cause enough of a shift in the currents to wake him.

He spent three days travelling on his own, though he had realised after he woke the second time, his muscles trembling and aching a bit from the distance and speed he had swum, that he . . . was not necessarily prepared for this. He had been out to sun and play for a while before the ship had been sighted and Lance . . . left.

He had no weapons, no tools, nothing with him at all except a few pieces of jewellery.

He still didn’t turn back, though. He crumpled in on himself, thinking of his family and the disappointment he had been and what his mother might be thinking and- Lance curled his tail around itself, squirming painfully, and he struggled with tears, but he didn’t turn back. He swam on, though for a while he had to ignore the ache of crying and he couldn’t see his path too clearly.

He had been safe enough thus far, though he knew it was a risk. He was far out of his pod’s territory, though, and even far from the areas they sometimes passed through when travelling or further afield for food or other forage.

Lance could still return home whenever he wished, but he was well and truly alone out here, and even if someone looked for him - would they? - he was unlikely to be found. He kept exploring, finding some different species of life as he did, but no other mers yet.

He was glad for it, not really ready to try and speak to any _others_ , even if they weren’t from his own pod and didn’t know him. Perhaps even more, if they were not. And another pod might chase out a lone mer, especially a male, travelling too near their own territory. No, Lance didn’t want to find any other mers.

Though he’d known, vaguely, that he would eventually run out of ocean if he kept going, Lance was still shocked when he _did_. He’d never _seen_ so much land. There were islands, a few, near his pod’s territory; one even had a settlement of humans on it.

But this. . . Lance swam along the coastline and it simply kept _going_.

He was amazed when he found that the thin stream he’d seen heading inland was only one of dozens, and some even larger waterways. Busy streams, with sea-fish darting through them, and even a few big and deep and broad enough that. . .

Lance washesitant, of course he was, but he’d always had a natural curiosity and there was no one here to tell him no, to hold him _back_ -

His throat tightened for a moment, but Lance ignored it.

He swam cautiously up the river, until there was land on either side of him, and so much closer than when he swam into the bay of turtles back home. The water felt different, lighter and thinner, but Lance could breathe it just fine. He poked his head up into the air again and looked around at the trees and the occasional living land creature.

It was . . . _strange_ , but interesting.

Lance kept going, passing by strange new types of fish and something like very tiny lobsters, or shell-less hermit crabs, busily scuttling around the bottom. He trailed his fingers through the sandy river floor, then rose again, twisting around rocks and a dangerously quick-paced part of the river with surprise.

He shoved his way up, having to leap and dive and drag himself around by a hold on a fallen log that had wedged itself between two of the biggest rocks once, but once he was past the water was nearly still. He held his breath, fins going still and lax, letting himself float and take in the area.

Tired from fighting the heavy currents around the rocks, Lance let himself explore the calmer area, which spread out broader than the rest of the river beyond, just a little. And then he sank to the bottom, stretching and curling his tail, inspecting himself absently - a few of his scales had been torn loose, no wonder he ached; nothing worrying though.

He rested for a bit, watching very small turtles swimming above him, and eventually dozed for a while. He dreamed of home, and his breathing quickened as his throat went tight with the desire to cry out to his family.

And then he thought of being turned away by his sister. Of being taunted by the others around his age in the pod when he was younger, and worse when they grew older and he still hadn’t matured into his voice. Then being the only one who hadn’t. Then being an adult, his voice changed, and still, none of the siren power had come into him.

No one his family had ever even been a _weak_ singer, and Lance- Lance couldn’t sing at all.

He thought of his mother’s upset when he couldn’t sing, his father soothing her and Lance both. His siblings promising it didn’t matter and defending him when someone else tried to make it an issue.

Lance threw off the nightmare that had knotted itself from the remembered jeers and well-meaning concerns and thrashed a little, startling away an enterprising little furry thing that had been swimming over him. It had a nose that looked like a bird’s, and Lance stared after it for a few moments, surprised.

It didn’t come back, though, chasing after something in the waving grasses nearer the shore instead. Lance took in a deep breath and then curled his body, lifting off the bottom. He closed his eyes and sang a soft note, letting it draw out and carry, eerie through the water.

He rose, pushing through into the air, and sang again. The same note rang out, clear as a bell and . . . weak as the cry of any common animal, any human even. Lance dug deeper and _sang_ , words and notes and melodies tumbling through his mind and his throat and rising into the air.

Only half-aware of the world around him, Lance found a rock and pulled himself onto it, tail propping him up at its apex as he grit his teeth. He _tried_ , as he had tried so many times before. He thought of what the others had told him, what his mother had said to feel for, the tricks his father had tried to impart.

There was _nothing_. Lance’s voice was strong and it carried as far and as loud as any of his siblings - louder and stronger than most of them, really - but it was _worthless_.

His song broke into a keening, wretched screech.

“Why is my voice _broken_?” Lance screamed, curling his hands around his own throat and letting out another powerful screech. It made even his own ears hurt like he’d driven his claws into them, but there was no _power_ to it beyond the volume and pitch. “Why. . .”

Lance sobbed roughly, his throat burning, his tail curling up in response to the pain he felt.

“Your voice sounds beautiful to me.”

Lance yelped, his eyes widening and every fin tensing. He snapped his tail out as he looked around, seeing a man thigh-deep in the water not far away, his upper body bare. Lance hadn’t heard or seen-

He twisted, gone in a flash, tumbling off the rock and into the water - not as smoothly as usual, but once he was in the water and streaking back towards the sea-

Lance screeched as something caught hold of him, firm but not painful, and he was hauled up out of the water. It wasn’t the man he’d seen, though it was in the loosest sense the same general _shape_ . . . but this was something _huge_ and covered in shaggy fur and there were alarmingly big fangs in its half-open mouth. __  
  
Lance screamed a little louder, a sinking feeling dragging at him. If he were a _real_ siren he would be able to get away, he thought wretchedly. Even an animal could be stunned by a loud enough siren scream, if not swayed by the song or broken by the scream, at least startled enough to allow a mer enough of an opening to fight their way free.

The big, furry arms only folded around him a little tighter, though, and then-

Lance’s struggles slowed as a tremor ran through the alarmingly big body holding him, and then it . . . began to shrink? The fur faded away and the body grew smaller and suddenly Lance was being held in the arms of the man he’d seen in the water.

He flailed a little, tail flicking, but he was too shocked to really move. “Wha- What?” he asked plaintively, squirming, looking up at the man. His shaggy hair was held back with an orange band, Lance recognised, that hadn’t been there a moment before. He vaguely wondered where it had gone when he had been the huge furry creature instead.

“I’m sorry,” the man said, still holding him without much apparent difficulty, although Lance’s tail alone was longer than he was tall, “I was fishing and I heard you sing. . . But then you looked like you were running away, and I couldn’t let you just go.”

“Fishing?” Lance thrashed, yelping. “No no no, let me go, I’m not-”

“Whoa! I’m not going to hurt you!” the man said, wide-eyed, holding on as Lance fought although it must be hurting him. Lance panted, still unable to get free, and struggled a little more, movements slowing - he didn’t really think it would work, any more. His gills flapped weakly, trying for more oxygen even though he was in the air. “You eat fish, right?” the man asked.

“. . .yes.” Lance allowed tentatively, his tail flexing more gently.

“Well, so do I. So I was _fishing_. For actual fish. Little ones. Well, littler than you.” He grinned, shrugging a little, the movement bringing Lance closer to his body. He didn’t have any sharp planes or bony ridges, like every mer Lance knew. “I would never eat someone who was a _person_ , even if you do have a fishytail. I just didn’t want you to get away! I mean, before I could talk to you at least.” He looked sheepish, his cheeks darkening a little. “I’m sorry.” he added, and his arms loosened.

Lance could easily use his own arms for leverage now, and his tail to shove out of the grip entirely, get himself back into the water. Probably he even had enough space to crush the man’s vulnerable throat with his tail if he chose, along the way. He hesitated, though, captivated by the man’s smile, and-

“My singing?” he asked tentatively.

“It was _beautiful_.” The flush on the man’s cheeks deepened. “Why were you- Why would you think it isn’t?” he asked. “That’s what I wondered. But I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He frowned.

“It’s . . . okay.” Lance said, and shifted a little. “What are you?” he asked, brushing his fingertips over the man’s face, careful of both the clawed tips and the now-drying webs between his fingers. “I’ve never seen a human _change_ like that before.”

“I’m not a human, I’m a bear.” the man said, ducking his head. “Well. I’m both, but I mean. Um. I’m Hunk.” he said, clearing his throat. “And I’m a bear shifter. You’re- You’re a mermaid?” He sounded a little awed.

Lance fidgeted, his fins ruffling. “I’m- Yes?” he said uncertainly. “I’m a mer. A siren.” he added, and then wished he hadn’t, expression twisting. “Only I’m not.” he said softly.

“Not what?” Hunk asked softly, and he shifted, what Lance realised was bending into the water, settling closer to the bottom. Water lapped around Lance’s tail as Hunk let his middle float in the water and he flexed it, the stretch where it began to narrow a little more sliding over Hunk’s shoulder and letting his tailfin flirt with the surface. “Uh. What’s your name?” he asked.

Lance stilled, then his fins curled in, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I’m Lance.” He wriggled, pushing closer. “And I’m not- I’m not a siren. Not a _real_ one. I can’t sing.”

“Why would you say that?” Hunk said, sounding actually distressed now for some reason. “You _can_ sing, it’s- it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Lance’s tail squirmed a little more and he ducked his head, looking at Hunk sideways. “Really?” he asked tentatively. “I don’t- I can’t-”

“Your voice is amazing, why- How could it possibly be broken?” Hunk asked, tentatively brushing his fingers over Lance’s tail. He shuddered, biting his lip and looking down at the big hand sliding gently over his scales, distracted a little from the question.

He swallowed as he remembered it, though. “I don’t have any power. My voice is just a voice, just sounds. There’s no- My sister can make a man _cry_ with only a few notes. I can’t so much as- _Nothing_.” Lance nudged into the touch, needing the offered warmth of someone else nearby - and oh, Hunk was _so_ warm, it was incredible.

“I wanted to cry when you stopped, when you were going to run away.” Hunk offered, looking away. Lance’s lashes fluttered and he curled his tail close, sliding off of Hunk’s shoulder. He pulled back a little. Lance pushed closer.

“Did you really?” Lance asked, leaning into Hunk’s space, peering into his eyes.

Hunk ducked his head. “It was so beautiful, and so powerful. . . I mean. I don’t know what you were trying- what you _mean_ , your sister, um. . . But there was so much-” he broke off, looking a little frustrated, but Lance was _captivated_. “Your voice held so _much_ , and it was so sad and so strong, and _you_ looked so sad, and you’re. . .”

Lance ran a hand over his tail, fidgeting with one of his fins. “My voice is strong but there’s nothing else to it. It’s not-” He looked up again. “It’s not _beautiful_ , or no one’s ever- It’s just- Nothing.”

Hunk frowned. “How can you say that? I’ve never heard anyone sing like-”

“You’ve never heard sirens sing.” Lance snapped back, folding his fins down, tears prickling at his eyes. “Thank you, but you- You don’t know-”

“I’ve heard the selkies’ magic. I’ve heard fae sing.” Hunk said softly. “I’ve never seen anyone like you before, I’ve never seen a siren or a mer or- or whatever you- But I’ve heard magic in song before and you- You didn’t _need_ magic to captivate, it was just . . . so much _feeling_ in your voice that I couldn’t stop listening.”

Lance stared at him. He fidgeted, shy and embarrassed. He’d been rude and dismissive, and that-

“Your voice didn’t need the magic and it would have been- To use magic would just have been undermining _you_ , it was something that would have _taken away_ from the song you sang. You. . .” Hunk coughed. “It’s as beautiful as _you_ are, and it was . . . sad. And I didn’t want you to be sad.”

Lance tentatively uncoiled his tail and moved closer again, tail curling and brushing lightly against Hunk’s legs. “Thank you.” he said, woefully inadequate. “No one’s ever- No one-” His voice wavered and cracked, and tears spilled down his cheeks.

Hunk gently wiped them away, and Lance caught his hands, nuzzling into them and closing his eyes. “You’re welcome.” Hunk said, his fingers exquisitely gentle as they brushed over Lance’s face and down his throat. “You. . . People should tell you how beautiful you are all the time.” he added, and when Lance opened his eyes again Hunk was flushed and looked embarrassed again, but his eyes were on Lance’s.

Lance’s fins trembled a bit with the thought of what he wanted to do, but he flicked his tail, pushing himself towards Hunk. He held still, surprised but already beginning to smile, as Lance’s body pressed against his, arms sliding over his shoulders.

Lance let himself be bolder and wrapped his tail around Hunk like he had wanted to do before, with a soft caress of his rippling tailfin - appreciation and flirtation, both laid out blatantly, and Lance tipped his head away shyly for a moment.

Hunk shivered but didn’t pull away, his hands finding the small of Lance’s back and the side of his tail just below his hip, holding him close just as boldly.

Lance smiled and leaned in a little more, tentatively moving in for a kiss, with a soft, pleased trill as his lips met Hunk’s.

**Author's Note:**

> Hunk is a Kodiak bear, and he’s big even for an adult male of that species. He looks something like this in his shifted form:  
>   
> Lance is a lean, fast swimmer with a long, strong tail, but Hunk’s bear form still dwarfs him (to the tune of being about 7.5 times his size).
> 
> Part of me wants to write a little more of their story, but for the Angst Week prompt . . . here it ends.


End file.
